


a change in dynamics

by JustATinyTurtle



Category: Endeavour (TV)
Genre: F/M, First Kiss, Get Together, I make Morse and Joan accept their feelings and just GET TOGETHER ALREADY, I’m a big music nerd and so is Morse so obviously i had to write this
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-28
Updated: 2019-03-28
Packaged: 2019-12-25 20:32:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,513
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18268850
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JustATinyTurtle/pseuds/JustATinyTurtle
Summary: “I was so worried,” she confessed in a small voice. “When dad called us at the house he said that the doctors didn’t know if you were going to make it.”A tear rolled down her cheek and Morse lifted his free hand to wipe it away. “I’m alright now,” he whispered.Morse and Joan’s relationship as told through music terms.





	a change in dynamics

**Author's Note:**

> Yeah, I’m a huge music nerd, but Morse is too so the story works!   
> Also the title is a pun because I couldn’t resist.

pianissimo - very quiet; a subtle beginning; delicate.

 

Joan Thursday met Endeavour Morse the same way she met most policemen, he was there as a bagman for her dad. He stammered out an awkward greeting and was incredibly sweet and polite and Joan just couldn’t help but be intrigued. 

All the other men that her dad brought around were tough, proud, putting on airs to seem more professional, as if it would make them be respected more. 

Endeavour Morse was entirely the opposite. He was awkward and respectful and didn’t have an ego that would turn most sensible girls away from him. 

Joan never thought of herself as the type to fall for the quiet Prince Charming, always preferring the bad boys who would take her out on their motorbikes and make her feel empowered by her own rebellion. Yet, there he was. 

She eyed him carefully as she made her assessments about his character. He was probably the type to walk a girl home by ten o’clock and shake her hand instead of kissing her goodnight. 

 

piano - soft, yet gaining momentum.

 

Joan’s suspicions were proved right not too long after. She had been on a date with Sergeant Jakes when Morse had shown up on official police business. After Morse had finished, he offered to walk her home and she had accepted. 

He walked her to her front gate and never once tried to kiss her. 

“Yeah, but there are coppers and then there are coppers. What sort are you?”

“I’m the kind who sees young women home,” he was quick to retort. 

She made a quip about how this would be the part where she would ask him in for coffee and he would kiss her on her doorstep. He laughed and something inside of her lit up. She decided, as she watched his retreating form, to try and make him laugh as often as she can.

 

poco a poco - little by little.

 

Months passed and they started to run in to each other more and more. This, of course, did nothing to help Joan’s... interest?

(She refuses to call it a crush, but at this point, no other words seem to come to her.)

Morse slowly but surely started to lose his awkwardness around her, beginning to see her not as a co-worker’s daughter, but as a friend. 

They ran in to each other at the store, the library, even sometimes when Morse was on a case. It began to become what Joan looked forward to every morning. 

“Good morning, Morse,” Joan said as she opened the door to let him in. 

“Good morning, Miss Thursday,” Morse smiled politely in return.

Joan rolled her eyes fondly at the man in front of her. “You can call me Joan, you know.”

Morse gave a small smirk. “I’m afraid old habits die hard.”

She nodded and gave a small hum in agreement. “Apparently.” She turned towards the kitchen and started walking towards it. “Cup of tea while you wait? Mum and Sam have gone out, Dad should be down in a few minutes.”

Morse paused and considered. He didn’t really have the time. He looked up the stairs - Thursday didn’t seem to be coming down any time soon. Finally making up his mind, he nodded. “Alright.”

Joan smiled and poured the piping hot water in to a cup. She handed him the cup and he accepted it with a smile. 

“Thank you,” he blew on it to cool it down ever so slightly before taking a sip. “What are you up to today?”

“Back to the bank, for me,” she said as she poured her own cup. “I get to come in a little late today, which is nice. What about you? What’s on the agenda for today?”

“Oh, I thought shop talk had to stay at the front door?” Morse teased her lightly.

Joan stepped closer to him, smiling.   
“You’re still in the hallway.”

Morse looked down at the tip of his shoes that was just barely in the kitchen doorway. He grinned. “Well, you know, just stopping crime and saving the world.”

She raised her eyebrows, grin not leaving her face. “Ah, my hero, then.”

Morse smiled as they locked eyes and she stepped closer. 

There was a clearing of a throat behind them. “Ready to go?” Fred Thursday directed towards Morse. There was a twinkle in his eye as he looked at the pair in front of him. 

 

forte - loud; noticeable. 

 

People began to notice their budding friendship. 

Sam was the first. He’d always been the best at reading Joan, so it was no surprise when, as Morse and Fred were leaving the house one morning, he turned to face his sister with a gleeful grin. Joan rolled her eyes and ran upstairs before her brother had a chance to tease her. 

Her mother was the next to notice. She was in the sitting room knitting when she overheard Joan and Morse talking one morning. She heard a small giggle coming from her daughter and smiled at the sound. She knew what was happening. With a happy sigh, she decided that she was glad that it was Morse. He was much better than the bad boy type Joan used to go for. Much politer, too.

Fred is the next to notice, though not from Joan. He and Morse we’re leaving his house one day when he noticed that Morse still had a small grin and a faint blush on his cheeks. Fred realized immediately what was happening - he was a detective, after all. He didn’t say a word, though a small smile did cross his face.

 

crescendo - to gradually get louder.

 

Morse didn’t fully realize the extent of his feelings until it was almost too late. He was out by himself one night chasing down a possible lead that the rest of the precinct had brushed off. However, Morse wasn’t going to let this go without a fight.

Turns out that that’s the kind of thinking that ends you up in a secluded area with a bullet wound in your chest and no backup on the way. 

The man had fled some time ago, now all that was left for Morse to do was to wait around for his death. His mind buzzed with activity. He thought about calling for help, his friends, all the things he would never get to do, people he would never get to say goodbye to: his sister, Strange, Trewlove, Thursday... Joan.

He hadn’t been able to get her out of his mind for quite some time and now, as he lie bleeding out with no chance of being able to tell her, he figured out why. He was in love with her. Well, wasn’t that just typical of him - always waiting and never acting until it was too late. He would’ve laughed at himself if it didn’t hurt to move. He resolved to stop wasting time if he ever got out. She deserved to know how he felt, even if she didn’t feel the same way - though he hoped she did. 

The last thought he had was of Joan before everything faded to black. He didn’t hear the approaching footsteps of Fred Thursday coming for him. 

 

ben mercato - accented strongly and distinctly; a defining moment that stands out from the rest. 

 

Morse opened the door, one hand to his bandaged torso and the other on the doorknob. 

Joan stood in front of him, looking worried. “You’re okay,” she breathed out, relief seeming to pour out of her. 

Morse gave an almost imperceptible nod, but she was watching him too closely to miss it. “I’m okay.”

“Dad said he had gone to go after you. He figured you would’ve done something like this - go confront a killer without backup.” She gave him a stern look as he ushered her inside his flat. 

He led them both over to his couch and they sat down. He winced a little and his hand went back to his bandages. 

Joan’s eyes followed the movement closely. “I was so worried,” she confessed in a small voice. “When dad called us at the house he said that the doctors didn’t know if you were going to make it.”

A tear rolled down her cheek and Morse lifted his free hand to wipe it away. “I’m alright now,” he whispered.

Joan looked in to his eyes, seeming to search for something. She moved forward ever so slightly and kissed him softly. It was hesitant and sweet, not entirely sure of his feelings and not wanting to hurt him while he was all bandaged up. She pulled back when she realized what she was doing. “I’m sorry, I don’t know-“

Morse leaned forward again and cut her off with a kiss. He lifted a hand to her face and cupped her cheek gently. He kissed her with fervor, trying to tell her about all of his realizations that he had when he was dying with just a single action. 

Joan’s hands went to his hair and she grinned. 

 

sempre - continually; always; forever.


End file.
